


Crashing and Burning

by Priestlyislove



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Captain America Civil War - Freeform, Daddy Issues, Fighting, Gen, Hallucinations, mentions of abuse, please, save my sons from myself, tony gets the crap kicked out of him
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-27
Updated: 2015-11-27
Packaged: 2018-05-03 16:58:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5299148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Priestlyislove/pseuds/Priestlyislove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve's killed before. He's killed bad guys. But maybe this time, he's the bad guy. He's certainly not the first bad guy in Tony's life. </p>
<p>Loosely based on what happens in the Civil War arc.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crashing and Burning

They had been fighting so long. That was the only thought that passed through Steve's mind. He didn't have time to think. In a fight, thinking could cost you your life. You just had to work of instinct. You just had to have faith in knowing you were fighting for the right reason. But after every punch and scratch and grunt, Steve was beginning to lose grasp on what he was fighting for.

The air was sweltering, a city ablaze surrounded them. Caging them in like animals. Steve knew there must be civilians somewhere in the area, but he couldn't focus on that. Instead he focused on the grit beneath his boots and in his teeth. He focused on the flickering lights on Tony, and the way he stumbled forward, still fighting.

Then he lunged.

Steve swung a punch hard enough to bring him to his knees. He didn't stop then. He couldn't give up the fight. "Wait..." Tony choked out through his bleeding lips. But he couldn't. He lost control over his limbs. An untamable fire had started in his chest. His body was only a machine that bended to its whim. "Ste...cap, cap I'm down...stop..."

He didn't even respond with words, only heaving growls and pants. When you push a righteous man into a corner, he will break. Inside that man is a beast, a beast he's tried to tie down with morals and justice. But when he breaks, the beast is lose. The beast is a rather ugly thing.

"I said I'm down! Steve! Please..." He raised his voice, which came out cracked. "I-I'm sorry..." The suit wasn't responding to Tony anymore. Now, instead of being his armor, it was his prison. He couldn't fight back. He fell back with a heavy clank. He continued to utter pointlessly, his conscious fading. Steve knew he could end it all in one hit.

"D..dad, stop..."

Tony muttered this somewhat coherently. Steve froze. His blood ran ice cold. Where Tony once was there was now a child, wearing shoes too big to fill and eyes too tired to dream. "I'm scared." He said without speaking. "Please don't hurt me. I'm scared."

Steve found he couldn't move. He started to tremble. "I don't like bullies," another little voice spoke. He looked up to see the tiny boy from Brooklyn who never backed down from a fight. He saw his hands weren't yet calloused, and his eyes that dared strangers on. The boy stared at the child laying on the ground, hardly breathing. "He's been through enough, hasn't he?"

Steve shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut. He was hallucinating. He had lost too much blood. "You don't understand, he-"

The boy didn't waver. "He didn't mean to cause trouble. He doesn't deserve this, you know that. You're just being a big bully because you can." he glared, balling his small, pale hands into fists. "Does it make you feel better about yourself, huh? Picking on the weak, on the broken? Why not fight someone your own size?" He got into a fighting stance.

"I could knock you down with one breath, kid. Go home." His voice was strained.

He lowered his fists a little. His face dropped. "If you think it's about winning, then you've forgotten why we fight."

There was a hand on his shoulder, yanking him back into vibrant consciousness. His eyes snapped open, and the children were gone. But Tony was still there, shattered like a glass figurine. Another hand was on him. And another. They dragged him away from Tony. He didn't fight against them, he was limp in their arms. "Oh...oh my god," he mumbled to himself. He covered his mouth with his hand. He glanced widely at those who were pulling him away. Policemen, firemen, paramedics. "I didn't mean to...I thought...oh god..." He couldn't make a clear sentence.

"He's delusional. He's really injured.""There's so much blood..." "He's Captain America. He won't die that easy, but he needs medical attention." "Pull yourself together!" "I can't believe this happened..."

A thousand sounds flooded his ears. He couldn't pull out any single voice, they all blurred together. All his senses felt blurred and heavy. He wanted to sleep.

"We need more men on Stark!" "Call in St. Peter's!" "Damage control!" "Get him out of the suit!"

He couldn't feel his hands. His vision came and went. In his mind's eye, all he could see was the kid. The kid beaten by a father who couldn't care less, and now beaten by the man he thought was his friend. "Tell him I'm sorry," he breathed. "Tell him I'm sorry." The child nodded quietly, his eyes cast down. But Steve could hear inside his mind. There was no forgiveness there. None for either of his heroes who let him down. That was okay. 

They had drawn their lines in the sand and they played war. They took it too far, like the children they were. Their heads were so far up in the clouds they brushed against the sun like Icarus. And now they were crashing and burning. The sea would wash away their lines and the earth would kiss their wounds closed. But some things time just couldn't heal. Some injuries would haunt them until they died. And one day, they would die. The best they could do was pray it won't be today, so that may get up again. So they could teach themselves to walk once more. So they could remember what love is before they go.


End file.
